Pranks
by Byaghro
Summary: Harry and Draco no longer fight, but they still can't leave each other alone.


**Warnings:** Kissing & silliness

**Note:** Written for HD_Smoochfest on LJ last year

**Prompt: Time-period / theme:** When Harry & Draco are teens

**Object / word prompts:** stuffed purple unicorn, black & white checkered tie, gingerbread man, pencil covered in cheese

**Action:** lots of running and playing pranks on each other

**Preferences / Other notes:** Draco pranks Harry and then they're getting back at each other.

**Disclaimer:** Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic was written for fun, not for profit.

**Summary:** Harry and Draco no longer fight, but they still can't leave each other alone.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

"Malfoy has spelled something on this table; I just know it," Harry replied, continuing to wave his hands over the food in front of him while watching the Slytherin table intently.

Hermione frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Harry picked up a piece of toast and sniffed it cautiously. "He's been watching me all morning. He's obviously done something to the food."

"Harry, the house-elves prepare the food down in the kitchens. Malfoy couldn't possibly have tampered with it."

Despite her reassurances, Harry poked a plate of sausages suspiciously. "I'm telling you, Hermione, he's got _that look_."

Hermione grabbed his arm and waited until Harry turned to her. "Harry, Malfoy stares at you _every_ morning. He's not up to anything, he's just messing with your head. Now eat your breakfast before it's too late."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but instead sighed heavily and slumped his shoulders. "Alright, Hermione; sorry. I'm just a little on edge lately."

"You two need to stop playing pranks on each other. It's getting out of hand," she informed him primly, releasing his arm and returning to her own breakfast.

"Would you rather we go back to fighting in the halls?" Harry asked, reaching for the marmalade. "At least there's no bloodshed this way."

Harry registered the soft pop seconds before the explosion actually occurred. As marmalade rained down on his head he could hear raucous laughter coming from the Slytherin table. Wiping his glasses clean, he turned to Hermione, who had the good grace to look contrite. She pulled out her wand and cast a quick Cleaning Charm. "Sorry, Harry."

"On second thought, perhaps bloodshed would be better," He mumbled, already plotting his next prank.

Harry knew the precise instant his latest stunt took effect. A shriek that could never be considered manly echoed throughout the castle, followed by stomping feet, slamming doors, and shouted hexes. Finally, the doors to the library blasted open and Malfoy stormed through. He zeroed in on Harry immediately and bellowed, "POTTER!" before stomping towards Harry with murder in his eyes.

Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. It had cost him a pretty penny to convince the Slytherin fourth year to tamper with Malfoy's shampoo, but the effects were _well_ worth it. Malfoy's pink, purple, and blue hair was standing up at odd angles, making him look like Tonks in a particularly odd mood.

Fortunately, Madame Pince reached Draco before he got to Harry. Harry was sure that Malfoy would have hexed him into next week if given the chance. As it was Malfoy ended up with twenty points from Slytherin and three hours of library detention, effective immediately.

After Madame Pince had wandered off to terrorize other students, and Malfoy was angrily stacking books, Harry picked up his things and carefully sidled over to the other boy. He leaned in close and whispered, "Don't be mad, Draco, I think that look is rather fetching on you."

Malfoy stiffened and gasped, but before he could turn and reply Harry was gone, running out of the library and down three flights of stairs. He finally stopped, panting from exertion. What on earth had convinced him to say _that_? To _Malfoy!_ Harry shook his head. These pranks were getting to him.

Surprisingly, Malfoy did not change his hair until the next day. After his initial outburst he apparently went back to his dorm, styled his technicolor locks, and strutted about the school as if he'd colored it like that on purpose. By the end of the week twenty other students were sporting multi-colored hairdos.

Harry didn't know if he was amused or irritated at how his prank turned out.

Another surprise was how mild Malfoy's revenge prank turned out to be, relatively speaking, anyway. Harry wasn't particularly bothered by it. Ron was livid.

"Harry, you're wearing Slytherin robes," he hissed for the twentieth time.

"Yes, I know that, Ron."

Ron continued to stare at him expectantly.

Harry sighed. "I can't do anything about it. I've already tried removing the spell. It doesn't work."

"Well, switch with me, then."

"What?" Harry shook his head, certain he'd heard wrong.

"Switch with me. I won't have you walking around wearing Slytherin robes. I'll do it, instead." The redhead nodded decisively and Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or scream. Ron was so… Ron, sometimes.

"Listen, Ron, you're almost a head taller than me. We'd both look ridiculous. It'll be fine, I swear. I don't mind that much." Harry placed his hands on Ron's shoulders, ready to shake sense into his friend if reason didn't work. Instantly, Ron's Gryffindor crest became a Slytherin one and his tie changed from red and gold to green and silver. Harry snatched his hands away and felt relief wash over him as Ron's robes righted themselves immediately.

"See?" he said calmly. "We can't even switch. It's any robes I touch. I promise, it's okay."

About that time Malfoy rounded the corner with his cronies and Harry braced himself for the mandatory jeers and taunts.

On cue, Malfoy sneered. "Changing House loyalties, Potter?"

Harry smiled. "Not exactly. But the Sorting Hat _did_ almost put me in Slytherin. I thought I might explore my Slytherin side."

Malfoy blinked for a second before laughing uproariously. "_You_? In _Slytherin_? Good one, Potty. You would have been eaten alive. The Hat would never have sorted you into…"

"Actually," Hermione piped in, appearing out of nowhere as she was wont to do, "it's true. The account is already documented in the revised version of _Hogwarts: A History_ as one of the few times the Hat offered someone a choice."

"Special favors for the Chosen One, as usual," Malfoy snarled, obviously irritated at having been proven wrong.

Harry shook his head. "No, I just think that my desire to avoid Slytherin was so strong it helped things along. Although now…" He stepped directly in front of Malfoy, so close their bodies were almost touching. "I wonder what would have happened if I'd made a different choice."

He watched, fascinated, as Malfoy's breathing hitched and then sped up and his eyes grew wider and wider.

Both boys seemed to realize their proximity at the same time and stepped away quickly. All around them, their friends seemed frozen in shock, or horror; Harry wasn't sure which. Ron was definitely horrified, but Hermione just looked speculative, which never seemed to bode well for Harry. Crabbe and Goyle looked like they were trying to decide if this meant they should pound someone, while Zabini and Nott exchanged a glance that could only be called calculating.

Harry suddenly decided that a hasty retreat was in order. He grabbed Ron and Hermione's sleeves and practically dragged them down the closest available hallway. Once they were a safe distance away, Harry allowed Ron to jerk his arm free.

"Harry? What the bloody hell was all that back there?"

Harry opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say. "I—"

"Harry, what's the _real_ reason you and Malfoy aren't fighting anymore?" Hermione asked quietly.

He turned to her with a puzzled look on his face. "We just… stopped. By some unspoken agreement. But we couldn't seem to leave each other alone, so now there are these pranks and—I don't know."

"Think about it," Hermione said softly and then pulled a still protesting Ron away.

Harry watched them go with a frown.

Two days later Malfoy strolled into Transfigurations with a grim look on his face. The moment the students caught sight of him a round of snickers broke out. He scowled at the class in general and then flopped down in his seat with rather less grace than usual.

Beside him, Crabbe and Goyle would open their mouths at intervals and then close them again. Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Malfoy turned to glare at him, probably certain Harry was behind whatever was going on. Harry smiled beatifically at him and then, in a moment of temporary insanity, his brain disengaged from his mouth and he heard himself shout, "Hey Malfoy, your arse looks pretty nice in those pants. You should wear them more often."

If Harry hadn't been so mortified at his own behavior, he might have enjoyed the blush that crept across Draco's cheeks. As it was, he clapped his hands over his mouth and darted a quick glance at Ron and Hermione.

Ron looked decidedly green, but Hermione just gave him another speculative look.

Thankfully, McGonagall chose that moment to stride purposefully into the room.

"Mr. Malfoy, what on earth are you wearing? Black and white checkers are definitely _not_ part of the dress code."

Malfoy looked from his robes to his teacher and back. To Malfoy, Harry knew, it appeared that he was wearing his standard school robes. To everyone else he was wearing an outrageous black and white checkered ensemble, complete with matching shoes and tie. He looked a little like a demented mime. _With a really hot arse_, Harry's treacherous brain added.

"But I'm not—" he began, bewildered.

"_Finite Incantatem_," McGonagall said firmly, ending the spell it had taken Harry weeks to perfect. "See that you keep your childish nonsense outside of my classroom, gentlemen." She glanced at Harry, who had the good grace to look ashamed.

However, once her back was turned and Malfoy was glaring at him again, Harry gave the Slytherin a saucy wink before pulling out his parchment and beginning his lesson.

_Merlin_, he thought, _I'm losing my mind._

He missed Draco's second blush of the day.

A week passed and Harry was beginning to wonder if Malfoy had ended their little prank war. He was almost sad to see it go. The interactions had been… interesting, of late.

After carefully adjusting his gloves, he mounted his broom and took to the sky for the first Quidditch practice of the season. He flew a lazy circle around the pitch to warm up. As he ended his second rotation, he noticed a group of students running toward the pitch, arms waving. A tall, unmistakable blond led the pack.

Harry frowned and leaned forward on his broom to get a better look at them. Just then, his hand slipped and his bare fingertips brushed the smooth wood. Harry suddenly found himself straddling not a broom, but a large, purple, stuffed unicorn; his hands wrapped firmly around its horn. He was too surprised to even yell before he began his rapid descent toward the ground.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He heard people screaming and footsteps pounding toward the pitch. He briefly saw Ron's startled face as his friend flew over him on his broom and then… the air was forced from his lungs as he landed on a strange substance. It wasn't quite hard, but it wasn't that soft, either. And did he smell… gingerbread?

Lifting his head, Harry realized he lay spread-eagled on a very large gingerbread man. _What the hell_?

Then Hermione's voice wafted across the pitch and it all became clear.

"A gingerbread man, Ronald? Honestly! Does your brain _never_ leave your stomach?"

"It was all I could think of at the time, all right? And it saved him, didn't it? That's the important thing." Ron was trying very hard to sound indignant, but Harry could hear the underlying embarrassment. He smiled. Good ol' Ron.

As if to prove that his life was cursed, the gingerbread chose that instant to break apart beneath him and Harry felt himself beginning to sink into the cookie. Gooey, half-baked gingerbread flowed over his legs and arms, miring him in the stuff.

"A little help!" he shouted frantically.

A hand appeared above him and he grabbed it tightly. A couple of tugs freed him from the cookie completely, only to find himself standing face to face with Draco Malfoy, who was still holding his hand. It was Harry's turn to blush.

"Potter, we need to talk." Malfoy's voice was serious enough, but he didn't seem menacing in any way.

"You tried to kill me," Harry replied, trying to keep his focus while the gentle warmth of Malfoy's palm heated his own.

"It's not quite what it looks like."

Harry regarded him for a moment, but finally nodded. "Let me grab a quick shower, first."

A flicker of – something – crossed Malfoy's eyes but it was gone in an instant. He stepped back, releasing Harry's hand in the process. "I'll meet you by the lake."

Harry nodded again and then walked over to his still bickering friends.

"Ron, thank you for saving my life. However unusually you chose to do it. Word of advice, make sure the cookie is completely done next time."

Ron's ears went pink. "Gingerbread isn't good unless it's gooey in the center," he mumbled.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione. "His methods may be a little unconventional, but they worked. So, give him a break, yea? Also, I think you're right. I may have a thing for Malfoy." Beside him Ron squeaked, but was silenced by a look from Hermione. "I'll let you know how it works out."

"He could have killed you with this last prank, Harry." Hermione pointed out.

Harry looked back at Malfoy and his friends did the same. The Slytherin started to fidget under their regard. "I don't think he did this one, Herm."

Ron immediately started to bluster, but Harry held up a quick hand. "Just… just let me talk to him first, okay?"

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Good luck, Harry."

Harry rushed through his shower, dressing quickly before he jogged down toward the lake. It wasn't until he spotted Malfoy sitting on a fallen log, looking out over the water, that he realized he might not want to seem so eager. Slowing his pace to a casual stroll, he approached the blond.

Before Harry had a chance to speak, Malfoy said, "I didn't spell your broom, Potter." He didn't look away from the lake as he said it.

Harry paused. "I know."

Draco's turned to look at Harry curiously. "You know?"

Harry shrugged and pulled himself up on the log. "Our pranks have been silly, and perhaps a bit infuriating at times, but none of them were malicious. We're… different now."

Draco nodded. "I still enjoy getting on your nerves. But I like not being punched in the face more."

Harry laughed. "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey doesn't know what to do with all of her extra free time these days."

"And Snape has been forced to clean his own cauldrons for weeks now," Draco replied with a grin.

Harry laughed harder. "No wonder he's been so awful lately."

Once Harry got himself under control they actually managed to sit in companionable silence for several minutes. Finally, however, curiosity got the better of him. "So, who _did_ curse my broom?"

Malfoy looked down at his hands for a moment. "Goyle." He glanced up at Harry quickly. "But he didn't mean to hurt you. Honest. He said he thought he'd join in the game. We used to cast the Stuffed Unicorn Spell on Theo's pillow all the time. I never dreamed he'd try it on someone's broom. He just wasn't thinking."

Harry refrained from making a comment to the effect that he'd be surprised if Goyle _ever_ thought. Instead he said, "I'll have to tell Ron and Hermione. They thought you did it out of spite."

Draco shook his head. "I already told them while you were in the shower. I didn't want Weasley to hex me before I had a chance to explain to you what really happened."

"Draco," Harry said suddenly, startling the blond with the use of his first name, "What is… um… this?" Harry waved his hand vaguely between them.

"The beginnings of a friendship?" Draco replied hesitantly.

Harry shook his head and the Slytherin's face immediately fell. Hesitantly, Harry placed a hand on Draco's arm. "I'm friends with Ron and I have _never_ wanted to snog him. _Ever._"

"Well, thank Merlin for _that_!" Draco mumbled quietly, before realization seemed to creep up on him and his cheeks turned bright pink. He glanced up at Harry from beneath pale lashes. "Does that… does that mean you _do_ want to snog _me_?"

Harry hesitated, drawing up every ounce of Gryffindor courage he possessed before nodding slowly.

"Well, why don't you, then?" Draco asked coyly.

It was Harry's turn to go bright pink but he took a deep breath and slid closer to Draco just the same. Carefully he reached up and cupped Draco's cheek, gasping when the blond leaned into the caress. He brushed his thumb across one high, aristocratic cheekbone before threading his fingers into silky soft hair. Harry stared into Draco's eyes, startled to realize they were not icy cold, but rather a warm, heather grey. What he saw there was not hate, or even teasing, but just the same first-kiss nerves he thought were probably reflected in his _own_ eyes at the moment.

He smiled and brushed his lips across Draco's.

When he pulled back, however, the usual Malfoy smirk _was_ there, but there was humor behind it as well. "You call that a kiss, Potter?"

Harry grinned and rose to the challenge.

Thirty minutes and one rather heated snogging session later, they made their way back into the castle, hand in hand.

Draco looked hesitantly at Harry. "What are you going to do about Goyle?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, pulling open the door to the Great Hall.

"Well, he almost killed you, even if it was accidental."

Ron walked up behind them and, surprisingly, clapped a hand on each of their shoulders. "Don't worry about that, mates, Dean has got it well in hand."

Harry turned to his best friend curiously. "How so?"

Ron pointed to the Slytherin table where Goyle was staring delightedly at an unusual item in his hand.

Draco frowned. "What is that?"

"It's a pencil." Ron explained.

"It's not like any pencil _I've _ever seen," Harry commented, watching in sick fascination as Goyle sniffed the pencil. "What's that on it?"

"Cheese."

Harry and Draco turned to him at once. "Cheese?"

Ron grinned. "Yup. Every quill Goyle touches turns into a pencil, covered in cheese."

"How is that a punishment for trying to kill Harry?" Draco asked.

"He's already eaten three of them," Ron replied with a smug grin.

Harry looked startled for a moment before turning horrified eyes back to Goyle just as the larger boy bit down and began chewing on his latest pencil. He was about to complain about the cruel and unusual nature of the Gryffindor's 'punishment' when he felt Draco begin to shake beside him.

Glancing over quickly he realized that Draco was clutching his sides in silent mirth. He held it in for a second longer before throwing back his head and howling with laughter. Harry soon joined in followed by Ron and most of the Gryffindors within earshot.

Goyle happily munched on his pencil, oblivious to them all.


End file.
